


The River Girl

by Calliope_Soars



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 12:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20153299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliope_Soars/pseuds/Calliope_Soars
Summary: Soft Nakia feelings.





	The River Girl

She could hear them, whispering about the river girl who was entirely too wild for her own good. The girl who didn’t know her place in the tribe. In her younger days, she would always make a point of giving them a hard, defiant stare. To make sure they knew that the wild girl had heard their scornful judgments, to let them know she was unafraid. It didn’t silence the whispers of course, but it made her feel powerful. 

She made it her purpose to defy their doubts, to be something beyond their small mindedness. The river went where it liked, it didn’t stop at the borders of Wakanda and she knew she wouldn’t let herself be hemmed in either. 

Wildness wasn’t an insult for a girl like Nakia. Far from it. She had been taught that this untamed spirit was a rare strength. 

Her sweet father always said it was their people’s fiercest characteristic. His eyes would look mischievous and proud. Father would say that it was the very thing that had allowed him prosper and eventually become leader of the River Tribe.   
Her mother made sure that her “wild” daughter knew that rivers weren’t anything like those slow, calm streams. “Don’t you ever dare be so dull,” she would tell her daughter with an elegant wink. Mama showed her the true strength of water and taught Nakia that rivers always make a path for themselves regardless of obstacles.

“It is no way to behave,” the others would continue to say under their breath, “it’s unbecoming for the daughter of the tribe’s head to act in such a way.”

With the years, the whispers grew louder, harder to ignore as Nakia herself started growing into a young woman. Truthfully, their words were beginning to sting like irksome mosquito bites, despite all her parents’ best efforts to thicken her skin.

Nakia had never been ordinary - a simple fact that was becoming harder to live with. She began to notice her cousins’ poise, their stillness and calm - and secretly wished for a drop of that for herself. To be soft and gentle, predictable and safe.  
Nevertheless the wildness remained, itching recklessly underneath her very skin. When this happened, she would sneak out and find her way to the river and without hesitation dive into the rapid waters. Nakia would swim and float and let the fierceness wash over and out of her. Drown out the whispers and doubts and let the river move her where it wanted. 

Once Nakia reached her early teens, she had found a way to make the wildness work for her. She had honed it into a tool, something unseen yet powerful. Like the river that fed their country, she would appear unassuming until she chose to reveal herself. She trained, became not a Dora but something other - something less restrained, more free. 

When T’Challa appeared before her, she found it hard to hide her wildness. He seemed unlike anyone she had ever met before, curious and brave and kind. Instead of whispering about her like all the others, he would surprise her and simply ask what she did when she snuck off to the river at night.

She froze, suddenly struck by the thought that safe did not have to mean dull, taking in the stillness of T’Challa as he waited for her to answer. His stillness was different to all the others, regal despite himself.

“Who told you about that?” She didn’t mean to snap, but from the look on his face she clearly must have.

“I heard -“

“-I didn’t know the prince listened to petty gossip,” Nakia interrupted, her wildness seeping through bit by bit. 

“I did not mean to offend.”

He looked so earnest and apologetic, as if he was only just noticing how he had surprised her. Nakia stepped closer, gentling her voice, “it’s just, people talk too much sometimes.” She gifted him with a smile, a rare one - one she wholeheartedly meant. T’Challa looked down at his feet, flustered. She wanted to elaborate, to explain how unkind these chatty people could so often be. Nakia glanced up at the prince then, feeling mean for thinking he would ever be cruel. 

“I like to dive in the water,” Nakia felt her own cheeks heat, embarrassment nudging at her a little so she shrugged, “I want to know all of her secrets.” She wanted to continue, tell him about how sometimes she could feel the spirit of the river whisper to her if she stayed under long enough.

Just as she was about to dismiss her comment as silliness, T’Challa grinned at her. “I love to run as fast as I can, pretend I’m the Panther.”

She kissed him for that confession. 

He held her hand afterwards, but couldn’t make himself meet her gaze. His fingers were gently curling around her palm and she felt a tender feeling bloom within her for him.

“That was my first kiss too.” 

Nakia chuckled as the prince’s eyes widened at her whisper. The wild river girl had shocked yet another. She laughed into their second kiss when he clumsily brought their mouths back together. Nakia kissed T'Challa dizzy.

“Tell me about your river, please," T'Challa murmured when they broke apart, fingers still tangled. Nakia felt breathless when she looked at him, and tucked a gentle peck against his high cheekbone before answering.

They sat in the high grass for hours that day, and every day since. Sharing secrets and speaking truths they had never said out loud to anyone before.


End file.
